


Bound to you.

by Rogue1987



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Angst and Feels, Language Kink, M/M, Sharing Clothes, pardon my scottish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22223281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue1987/pseuds/Rogue1987
Summary: "Oi, you're doing it again, mate,"Andy nearly jumped, startled to be interrupted from his lovely daydream by none other than the likes of Ox. "Doin' what exactly?""Pining and lusting after the big man himself,""The big man? Ye mean God?"Ox rolled his eyes at him in that typical Ox way, indicating that he was more than fed up with him. "Well, that depends. Do you see Virgil as God, Robbo?"
Relationships: Jordan Henderson/Adam Lallana, Virgil van Dijk/Andrew Robertson
Comments: 15
Kudos: 72





	Bound to you.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was a request from a lovely Anon on Tumblr. Thank you for giving me the prompts for this, I hope it's what you wanted.  
> I thought I didn't ship this that much ( I'm more of a Robbo/Trent kind of girl ) but now that I wrote this I may have converted myself.  
> I had a lot of fun making this. I hope you guys like it too. 
> 
> There's no wives or kids here. Also, I made up the Bournemouth game, so it's not really canon or an actual timeline based on reality. 
> 
> I wanted to include Ox because I've been a big fan of his brilliant personality since his Arsenal days and I think he deserves more love. 
> 
> Hope you like it, let me know.

_Melwood_.

"Oi, you're doing it again, mate,"  
Andy nearly jumped up, startled to be interrupted from his lovely daydream by none other than the likes of Ox. "Doin' what exactly?"  
"Pining and lusting after the big man himself,"  
"The big man? Ye mean God?"  
Ox rolled his eyes at him in that typical Ox way, indicating that he was more than fed up with him. "Well, that depends. Do you see Virgil as God, Robbo?"  
"Now who said anything about Virgil?" Andy deflected, feeling a tad caught off-guard by his teammate's keen eyes. Ox saw more than people gave him credit for, he looked right through you if you weren't perfectly careful. You had to shield your emotions from him, otherwise, he saw all.  
"Play dumb all you want, mate, but I know. And I'm sure he knows too," Ox said, nodding at Virgil who was running around the training field with Gini, laughing and talking about something in Dutch as he shoved Joe forward and yelled at him for being too slow to run properly. Scolding him for being a horrible defender, telling him he had to work harder to improve.  
Joe retaliated by shouting that he was miles faster than Virgil and dared him to have a race. Virgil snorted something incoherent and wrapped his arm around Joe, making up for his half-baked insult. Virgil was incredibly fond of Joe, that much was clear to everyone with a working set of eyes.

Andy couldn't help but feel jealous of Joe, realizing full-well how immensely petty that was. Virgil was just a very affectionate guy who touched everyone equally, wrapping his arms around whoever was close by.  
Although lately, Andy had been that guy, often finding himself in Virgil's orbit, knowing that the touches were sure to come if he played his cards right. And Virgil never let him down, always happy to indulge.

Even his boy Trent made a comment about it a few days ago, whining that Andy was cheating on him with Virgil, clearly feeling a bit neglected. It was true, Andy had been avoiding Trent a bit, but not on purpose. It just sort of happened.  
The embarrassing need to be closer to Virgil was eclipsing his desire to be around Trent.  
And that said something because he absolutely loved hanging out with Trent. He considered him to be one of his best mates in the team. They were always sitting around, joking and having a good time.  
He wondered if Trent had caught word of his pathetic man-crush on Virgil too. Did everyone know already? Was he truly being that obvious about it? He hoped not. It was just a silly wee crush, it would die down, eventually. _Right?_

Ox laid his arm around his shoulder, stilling him, looking far too serious as he leaned in. "I'm not judging you, mate and I swear I won't tell anyone else. If you ever need to talk about it, you know where to find me, all right?"  
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind yeah?"  
"Good, and talk to Trent will you? He really misses you and he's becoming bloody unbearable because of it. He keeps phoning me at all hours of the day, begging for attention. When I ignore him, he comes over. Even my missus has been complaining about it. You need to set your priorities straight, mate. Having a crush is normal but don't neglect your kid,"  
Andy nodded solemnly, knowing damn well that Trent was kinda lonely living on his own for the first time in his life and that he had been failing to give him enough attention. "Will do,"

A pigeon flew over Melwood and landed close by Andy's feet. James, who was running by pointed at it and sniggered, "Oi, Robbo. What's it thinking?"  
"That joke stopped being funny a long time ago, Milly," Andy snorted. He should have never told him ( and the rest of the world ) about that.  
Trent kept bugging him about the birds too. And none other than Trent was walking right behind Milly, picking up the slack. "I _totally_ disagree, Robbo. So is this your pet bird then? The one who follows you around?"  
"Oi, respect your elders' you snotty little brat. You're still in diapers for fuck's sake," Ox sneered but his eyes were twinkling with mischief.  
"Maybe so but this _brat_ has a higher FIFA ranking than most of his esteemed elders so I guess he's doing something right," Trent shot back. "Even higher than you, Robbo,"  
A massive, strong arm came around Andy's shoulders and he didn't have to look back to know who it was. "But then again, _you're_ a snotty little shit, Trent and he's not,"  
"A shit who saved all your asses during the Barcelona game," Trent shrugged, eyes gleaming coyly. That was Trent's favourite argument whenever people were poorly attempting to be cross with him. He loved using that in his defence. He was probably never going to shut up about it either and Andy couldn't say he blamed him, to be fair. Trent's moment of genius had saved the day.  
"Get back to work, ladies! Tea-time's over!" Hendo shouted as he jogged past them with Sadio and Bobby following close behind.

Virgil grumbled something in Dutch and Andy felt his heart flutter. He had a massive thing for Virgil when he spoke in his own language, especially when he swore in Dutch. He wanted Virgil to teach him some Dutch but felt too awkward to ask it of him.  
Maybe he should ask Gini to teach him some, Gini was always willing to help anyone out, being one of the absolute nicest guys Andy had ever met in his life. "What were ye saying?" he asked before he could hold his tongue.  
Virgil's arm was still clutched around his shoulder and his fingers fiddled with the fabric of his training shirt. "Hmm? What?"  
"In Dutch, what did ye say?"  
"Oh, I said like the Dutch version of goddamnit,"  
"Can ye teach me?"  
Virgil snorted loudly. "You want to learn how to swear in Dutch?"  
"Aye,"  
"Why?"  
Andy felt stumped. That was an excellent question on Virgil's behalf. Why did he want to learn? He wrapped his tiny brain for a good explanation but came up empty as shit. "I dunno, it just sounds cool, I guess,"  
"Okay, why not, Braveheart. I can teach you some bad language if you want. You're such a weirdo sometimes," Virgil chuckled affectionately as he finally released Andy from his tight grip. Andy missed it already. God, he truly was hopeless and weak when it came to Virgil. He was in too deep and this shit was bound to get problematic.

That night at Anfield during the Bournemouth game he and Virgil were both on the bench, Klopp giving them some much-needed rest during their busy schedule.  
With Virgil gone the defence was in a world of trouble and they actually conceded a goal, much to everyone's dismay. Virgil was literally fuming, steam clouds coming out of his ears. "Godverdomme man! Stelletje sukkels!"  
"There, right there. What did that mean?" Andy inquired, intrigued by Virgil's words. Virgil shook his head at him, looking awfully sardonic. "Really man? Now? We're losing at home and you want me to teach you Dutch now? Seriously, bro?"  
"We're _not_ losing, Virg. Sadio, Mo and Bobby will fix it for us, they always do. They just made a wee mistake-"  
"We can't fucking afford any mistakes, Andy! We lost the title last year thanks to one fucking mistake. We need to be better. Can't afford mistakes, not after last year. It's unacceptable and I'm still sick to my stomach for coming up one point short. I should have been out there,"  
"Ye needed rest, mate. And yer knee was bugging ye a bit. They will be fine without ye for a game, Virg. Ye need to let it go. Ye're a brilliant defender but they can manage one game without ye,"  
"Obviously not, look what just happened! Are you blind or just stupid?"  
Those words cut through Andy like a blunt butter knife, slicing and dicing away at his intestines. Virgil was being cruel to him and he was never cruel. It stung. Andy felt a shiver go over his spine that wasn't just due to the ice-cold January weather. He was freezing, internally and externally. All the warmth had evaporated from his system.

Virgil caught the sudden shift in his mood, removed his own coat and huddled it over Andy's shoulders, holding onto him tight as he hauled Andy closer to his waist. "I'm sorry, Robbo, okay I didn't mean it like that. I'm just being a dick. I just can't stand to fail. I'm scared we will see the title go to someone else again this year, instead of to us, you know? I try to act like I don't feel the pressure but I guess I failed badly at that. I didn't mean to be such an asshole to you. Forgive me?"  
Andy already had. He would dare anyone to stay cross at that outrageously beautiful face when he had his big puppy-dog eyes on. He rested his head against Virgil's shoulder. "Already forgiven and forgotten ye numpty. Aren't ye bloody freezing now?"  
"Nah, I always run hot. And you were looking cold as an ice-cube and I figured it might get me back in your good graces, so,"  
"Aye, it was quite courteous to hand me yer jacket, I have to say,"  
"Well, I do try to be an elegant man, when I'm not shouting at you idiots for making me do all the hard work, that is. I know I'm not as inherently sweet as Gini but I do try to be nice, sometimes," Virgil winked, cheekily. 

Andy had to bite his tongue else he would surely say something stupid again. He _loved_ Gini, hell everyone did but he would take Virgil over Gini any day.  
Virgil was sweet too, in his own overbearing, dominant manner. He cared about you, gave good directions and was a very great captain. Gini was a bit more angelic, surely, there was not a negative bone in his body, but Virgil, well he was _special_. Or at least to Andy. Which had created this whole flipping mess in the first place.

"It meant goddamnit," Virgil said bluntly, out of the blue.  
"What did?"  
"Godverdomme,"  
"Oh, cheers, mate,"  
"The Dutch G is always hard for English speaking people,"  
"I'm sure it is, but I'm not English am I? Godverdomme. Was that right?"  
"Nearly, you need to put more um, how do you say, _emphasis_ on the G. God-ver-domme. Breaking it down will make it easier,"  
"God-ver-domme," Andy repeated like some glorified schoolboy, heart throbbing in his throat.  
"Yeah! Much better," Virgil approved, patting him on his right hand. "Your hand is stone-cold, Andy," he concluded worryingly, cradling Andy's hands into his own big ones and shielding them from the icy air. It was so bloody romantic, sitting there with Virgil's coat around him, his hands tracing soft circular patterns over his own. Andy had totally forgotten about the game, all the noises from Anfield fading into the background. All that existed at that very moment was Virgil.

A persistent nudge to his left, however, crudely brought him back to reality. "Cameras, mate, cameras," Ox warned, hissing under his breath. He was right. A massive camera was now pointed at his face as well as Virgil's, documenting their intimate, romantic moment. Virgil quickly released him, leaning back against his own seat, chewing pensively on his lower lip as he fixed up his man-bun for the umpteenth time.  
It was his nervous tic, re-doing his hair and perfecting it even though it always looked exactly the same after he'd _"fixed"_ it.  
There was never a hair out of place with Virgil but Andy knew that everyone had their own little OCD things and ways of managing the sheer pressure of their careers. Trying to live up to everyone's towering expectations. From the fans to the manager.  
As a football player, you wanted to please everyone but also be proud of your own achievements. No one else would take you to the pique of your game but you. Football was a team sport but to make it to the absolute top you had to follow your own path. And once you got there, managing those standards and remaining in the same form proved to be a daily struggle that required a lot of sacrifices from your daily life and your family.

The second half went much better, Sadio scored twice and Anfield visibly relaxed. Trent got subbed by Joe and Ox had left the bench for a warm-up, leaving Trent to take his vacant seat to Andy's left. "Wanna come up to my place for some FIFA tonight, Robbo?"  
Ox was changing out of his training shirt in front of them, pleading hard at Andy with his big brown eyes, begging him to entertain Trent for a night. He knew he was long overdue to take him, it had been a while.  
"Uh, sure. As long as ye're not cooking anything, promise me we'll order takeout," Andy negotiated, knowing full well that Trent couldn't boil an egg to save his life.  
"You got yourself a deal, mate," Trent gleamed, visibly excited about the prospect of having Andy at his house for the night. Andy knew he was quite lonely at his new place, without his family. It was hard to live alone for the first time in your life.  
He emphasised, the whole team did, but everyone agreed that Trent needed a girlfriend asap so that he could stop demanding everyone's attention and taking up all their spare time.

Bobby scored the third goal and with that, the three points were in the bag, much to everyone's relief.  
Virgil hugged him goodbye, holding him a tad longer for it to feel normal and Andy caught himself drowning in the spicy scent of Virgil's cologne again. He stoically resisted the nagging urge to lean up and kiss Virgil's cheeks. That wasn't normal, not in England. If only they had been playing for a Spanish team, then he would have gotten away with a gesture like that. But not here. Not now. "See you tomorrow, Braveheart, okay?"  
"Yeah, see ye, Virg,"

Andy drove Trent back to his place and followed him inside the flat, it was so close to his house that they always drove up to games together. Trent had his eye on a mansion in Hale, Cheshire but for now, he was renting a spacious flat. After ordering Thai and playing two games of FIFA that Trent both won as usual ( Andy had no patience for gaming ), Trent put the remote down and exhaled deep. "So, have you shagged Virgil yet then?"  
Andy choked in his sip of coffee. "Excuse me?"  
"Fuck off, you heard me,"  
"Is this a joke, mate?"  
"You see me laughing?"  
"What the hell are ye on about, Trent?"  
"Wow, that's shocking that is, you trying to deny it. It's all right mate, we've all been there,"  
Andy frowned, confounded. "Been where?"  
"Crushing like a schoolgirl over Virgil. I know I have when I first met him,"  
Andy's mind was spinning out of control. Trent had a thing for Virgil too and apparently other teammates had too? Who? He went over his teammates and grew increasingly paranoid at the prospect of anyone having a thing for Virgil other than him. This wasn't happening, right? "Wait, ye're telling me ye're gay?"  
Trent shrugged callously. "Nah, bro. Bisexual at best. I'm just curious and shit, Virgil's seriously attractive. I know you fancy him, I've seen you staring at him like he hung the moon for months now,"

Andy had seriously underestimated Trent. Which was really fucking stupid because he and Trent nearly did everything together so if anyone knew about this it would be Trent. But even Ox had noticed it. This made Andy wonder if the entire team was aware of his petty feelings. He felt incredibly exposed and naked all of the sudden and the need to run and hide overwhelmed him. Trent picked up on it, naturally, keen-eyed as he was and tentatively took his hand. "Not everyone knows, mate. Don't worry,"  
"Ox does, he told me today,"  
"Well, he _won't_ tell anyone and neither will I,"  
"Did you have a crush on other teammates too, then?"  
Trent giggled. "Sure, loads of them. Oi, what do you expect, I'm barely out of me teens, I'm basically a set of raging hormones. But what you're really asking me if I ever had a crush on you, aren't you?"  
Andy resisted a blush with the utmost difficulty. "Did you?"

Trent laughed heartedly and pounded him in his waist hard enough to hurt. "Oh Robbo, seriously, the only thing I have a massive crush on when it comes to you is your accent. Now _that_ is seriously hot. Other than that, nah, not so much. I love you to death, mate but not like that. I'm currently smitten with Hendo if you must know,"  
Andy contemplated that for a moment and understood that appeal. "Yeah, I can see that. He has this charisma. But ye do know he's already taken, Trent. Good luck trying to bribe him away from Ads,"  
"I know, I'm not dumb enough to try that. But there's no harm in looking and lusting after someone is there?"  
"I guess not, no,"  
"So when are you making your move on Virgil, then?"  
"Oh, let's see, well I suppose never. Are ye joking? Virgil's the fucking epitome of straight. He'll _never_ go for me. Not in a million years,"

Trent's eyes were gleaming in the dimmed evening lights and Andy could tell he was quickly losing his temper. "How can you be that blind? Are you just pretending to be daft?  
He gave you his coat today! His bloody coat in the middle of winter and thus freezing his own balls off. That was seriously romantic, Andy. He likes you, I know it. If you make a move he won't turn you down,"  
"I'm not willing to risk rejection. It will make working together impossibly awkward,"  
"You need to grow a pair. He won't reject you! Don't you trust me?"  
"Of course I do," Andy said truthfully. He would trust Trent more than anyone else on the planet. They had a connection. They were a strange, unlikely pair and yet it worked like magic.  
"Then get in your bloody car, drive over to Virgil and snog him senseless. Now, go!" Trent stood up and hauled Andy off his sofa, insisting, "Trust me on this,"

Andy sighed, deflated. The prospect of taking Trent's suggestion suffocated him, making his mind melt into a pool of jelly. This was a poor idea, he knew it. And yet he felt eager to just do it. Get it over with. Trust Trent's judgement. "Okay, I'll go," was he actually saying those words? And was he seriously about to do this?  
Trent slapped his shoulders, looking as content as he had after that corner against Barcelona. "Good! I do expect to be a bridesmaid at your wedding, though,"  
"Oh piss off. Will you be okay for the rest of the evening? Maybe Joe can come over,"  
"Nah, bro. I'm fine. Cheers. Go get him," Trent hugged him tightly. "Love you, man,"  
Andy swallowed thickly. "Love ye too, ye numpty,"  
"Text me later? I wanna know how this ends,"  
"I will, see ye tomorrow, mate,"

Andy left the flat and sat in his car for a good ten minutes before he had mustered the courage to actually turn the wheel and drive the short distance to Virgil's place. He tried to silence the demons that plagued his mind with negative outcomes and doom scenarios and instead chose to focus on Trent's assurances.  
Trent saw many things, even for a lad that young and to be fair he was usually on point when it came to things like this. Andy had faith in his judgement. He needed to believe in him.  
Trent had his best interest at heart so if he claimed Virgil was into him he needed to take his word for it.  
Andy gazed at his own reflection in the rearview mirror and groaned. He was nothing special, really. Virgil was mind-blowingly beautiful. Why would he settle for someone as ordinary as him? He was the plain working-class hero and Virgil looked like he just emerged from a Men's Health magazine. He nearly heard Trent yelling at him to quit obsessing and get it over with. And so he did, eventually making his way out of the street.

He drove up to Virgil's gate and pressed the button with a freakishly quivering hand. "Who is it?" Virgil asked through the intercom.  
"It's uh, me. Andy,"  
A small pause followed. When Virgil finally spoke again he sounded genuinely surprised. "Oh, cool. Come on in," the gate opened and Andy drove his Range Rover up the driveway and parked it neatly.  
Virgil had already opened the front door and was lingering in the doorway wearing a black tracksuit and simple slippers, clearly still anxious to figure out why Andy was here at ten in the evening. "Did you run out of sugar or-"  
Andy made his way over to Virgil with Trent-like speed and without ever thinking it over he leaned up at the towering figure and plastered his lips to Virgil's. Virgil stilled for a moment, clearly taken aback by Andy's rush actions and didn't respond to Andy's lips.  
Just when Andy started to regret this and wanted to run for the hills, Virgil's arms finally came around his coat, hauling him close to his chest while his soft lips sprung into action, parting themselves for Andy, granting him permission to deepen the kiss.

Andy had dreamt of this moment for a long time and yet during all those dreams and scenarios that had entered his mind, it was never as good as the sheer power of reality. The pure direness in his own heart told him that he had been lying to himself for a while now, it wasn't just a wee crush. He was completely and hopelessly in love with Virgil. There was no fleeing from that reality any longer, not after taking that final hurdle.

Virgil tasted like a hint of mint and suspected he'd caught Virgil on his way to bed.  
The Dutchman kissed the same way he led the team's defence during a game, dominant, persistently guiding and insistent and yet it was also sweet and gentle, caring even. Andy happily let him take charge, the sensation of those full, luscious lips to his own nearly lifting him up and floating him up to heaven.  
When Virgil's tongue brushed against Andy's he reached a new dimension in life, a whole new plane of existence.  
It was incredibly hot and Andy felt Virgil pulling him even closer to his own body almost as if he tried to consume Andy, the hands, warm like furnaces lovingly tracing over Andy's cheeks.  
He would let Virgil consume him too. Without question. He would let Virgil do whatever he wanted with him. As long as he could hold onto this divine feeling, Andy was down for pretty much whatever Virgil craved for.  
Virgil suddenly lifted him up from the ground so that he had easier access to Andy's mouth, shoving Andy up against the wall, forcing him to wrap his legs around the broad waist of the best defender in the world. Virgil's hands were everywhere, caressing, feeling, needing more.

Virgil eventually came up for air after what could have been an eternity in Andy's head. He'd lost all track of time. They stared at each other for a while, Virgil still holding Andy up in his arms. His lips ghosted over Andy's forehead, a gesture so gentle that Andy swore he'd imagined it. "So, did you finally figure it out then?"  
Andy buried his head in the nook of Virgil's shoulder, his hands roaming greedily over Virgil's hair. "Aye, a little birdie helped me get a clue,"  
Virgil smiled fondly at him and pecked his cheek lightly. "Tell Trent I said thanks,"  
"Actually it was the Ox who helped me figure out about how I felt first. Who gave the assist, but yeah Trent scored the winning goal,"  
"Huh, well I guess we owe them,"  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
"I wanted you to get a clue and figure it out on your own but now that that's out the window, finally, I suppose we should be glad they intervened,"  
"I know I am, yeah. Sorry for barging in here like this, for springing this on ye without-"  
"No, no, no don't do that to yourself Braveheart. Don't fucking ruin the moment now. Just get your ass inside and show me just how much you like me," Virgil ordered sternly, the sheer command his voice making Andy embarrassingly weak-kneed.  
He had never been happier in his life to obey a command. As he sat on Virgil's sofa and waited for him to fetch him a drink, he texted Trent, as promised, because Andy prided himself on always keeping his word. _'Sorted, cheers mate,'_  
Trent replied within seconds. _'You're welcome, I do expect that invitation to the wedding, though, ;-)'_  
Andy rolled his eyes, sniggering giddily to himself. Tonight, he had all he'd ever wanted.

_The end._

**Author's Note:**

> The whole jacket sharing was based mostly on Thomas Mueller giving Xabi Alonso an extra coat during a game. I found that incredibly romantic ( and many others with me ) so I thought I'd include that. 
> 
> Sorry lovely anon that I didn't include more Dutch lessons ( would have been easy for me considering I am Dutch ) but I might do that in an eventual sequel to this story.  
> Stelletje sukkels, means bunch of dumbasses, basically.  
> This was supposed to be short but I can't do short one-shots. 
> 
> If you liked this please let me know. This is one of my first Liverpool fics and I know I didn't get the accents right but hell I tried. Notes and kudos are like food to me, they help me write more.


End file.
